Before the Fall
by wishingforatypewriter
Summary: At BLUE, Nakiri Erina had chosen her pride, and now she was paying for it.
1. Chapter 1

At BLUE, Nakiri Erina had chosen her pride.

In the face of a dish that had been so profoundly delicious she swore the ground started quaking beneath her, she had once again looked Yukihira Souma in the face and said, "Disgusting."

And even as she pulled together a plate that would be superior to his eggs benedict don in her mother's eyes, her body, soul, and every conscious thought was consumed with the desire to taste it again.

She could hear it from her office, the sound of Hisako and Alice and Tadokoro-san moaning and squealing over the second seat's newest creation. She released a quiet, wistful sigh before returning to the pile of work on her desk and the lunch she'd packed that morning.

Before the competition and the beach and the arrival of that ignoramus Saiba Asahi, she would never have dreamed of bringing lunch from home. Every day during the noon hour, Yukihira-kun would knock on her door with an agenda to distract her and some new creation he was dying for her to try.

And though she'd fuss and flip her hair, complaining about what a bother it was to keep enduring his pedestrian fare, she always looked forward to what he would make. The cooking ranged from good to near miraculous; he always spared her palate his crudest experiments. And though she only realized it in retrospect, it was his company she enjoyed best of all.

But after BLUE, he stopped coming.

For the first week, the second, the third she assumed that he was still just pissy about losing to her. But when she finally confronted him about it after an Elite Ten meeting during which she'd gotten so goddamn hungry waiting for him that she actually contemplated ordering a pizza, she realized the gravity of what she had done.

"I finally got the message," he'd told her, wearing a grin that didn't warm his honey eyes the way a genuine one would. "You're not interested in my cooking the way it is now. I promise I'll get way better before I bother you again."

The response had left her uncharacteristically speechless, so far was it from anything she had expected. And as she always did when he knocked her off balance, Erina took refuge in her haughtiness.

"See that you do," she'd replied with an indifferent hair flip even though it had been the very farthest thing from what she'd meant, from _I want to eat your cooking again. _

Nakiri Erina had chosen her pride and now she was paying for it.

* * *

Souma-kun was distracted. Actually, preoccupied would probably be a better word to describe it.

When they had all come home from BLUE, they fell back into their regular routines — their meetings and shokugekis and parties and arguments. But Megumi always had a creeping suspicion that his mind was elsewhere.

Today at lunch —when after _months_ of Alice's begging, he finally recreated his dish from the final round at BLUE — she became certain. Interlaced with the delicate textures and complex umami was the taste of longing, of affections unreturned.

What a poor best friend she must have been, taking this long to notice that Nakiri-san had broken his heart.

She was sitting at the kitchen table of the Polar Star, thinking over the day's events when he came in from the latest shokugeki marathon he'd gotten himself roped into.

"How's it going, Tadokoro?"

"I'm good," she said. "Just thinking about when I'll finish that paper for Chapelle-sensei's seminar."

"Shit! When's that due?"

Megumi chuckled, smiling a bit more than she should. "It's due on Friday, and it's been on the syllabus since the beginning of the semester," she said. "You've always got your head up in the clouds."

"Maybe," he replied, putting his knife case down on the table. "Can I borrow your notes if I make you dinner?"

"You can borrow my notes regardless," she told him. "And you probably need the extra time to start writing."

He cooked for her anyway — boeuf bourguignon tacos awash with memories of the day they met. The honey chili sauce he topped them with brought a nostalgic smile to her lips.

"So what do you think?" he asked after she spent enough time staring into space with her mouth wide open. Megumi swore that boy's cooking would be the death of her.

"It's delicious, Souma-kun," she told him, because he deserved it, because it was true. But she knew it would never mean enough coming from her.

She reached into her messenger bag and handed him the notes she'd taken with extra care because she knew he'd end up borrowing them. She hoped that she'd remembered to erase the hearts she doodled in the margins.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everyone! This fic is the result of a request I got on tumblr asking for a post-series sorina fic. I definitely felt like chapter 315 left quite a bit to be desired, so this is my take on filling in the gaps between the finale and the epilogue chapters (and maybe a little beyond that). Almost everything in this fic is based on canon, but I've chosen to make Erina the first seat and Souma the second seat (rather than Erina being headmaster of the academy). Please review to let me know what you think, and have a great day!


	2. Chapter 2

An impartial observer would not be able to tell that Yukihira-kun was icing her out; in fact, most of their closest friends hadn't noticed at all.

It was usually subtle — an invitation to the Polar Star extended while his eyes were set on Hisako or Alice instead of her; a question posed to the group during an Elite Ten meeting, when before he would have just texted her under the table — to the point that Erina sometimes wondered whether she was just over-analyzing.

However, the situation became painstakingly clear one Thursday afternoon when they were sharing a car back to the academy. Instead of talking her ear off the way she'd grown accustomed to, or at least leaving the atmosphere open to conversation, Yukihira Souma pulled out a book.

Oh. No. He. Did. Not.

Scrolling through his phone would have been a convenient way to seem passively unavailable. Listening to music could have been interpreted as standoffish, but generally acceptable. But the fact that he made the decision to not speak to her so far in advance that decided to bring the copy of _Kitchen Confidential_ that had probably been in the Elite Ten library since the time when Shinomiya Kojirou was first seat was more than Erina could bear.

"Is this really what we're doing right now?" she asked once the academy was within sight again. She hadn't really meant to say it out loud, but sometimes when the same thought was on a constant loop in one's brain, it happened to slip out.

He stuck a bookmark between the pages and looked at her, perhaps for the first time in the past three months, and Erina felt a pang of longing deep within her.

"What do you mean?"

"You can't deny that you've been ignoring me all day," she said, arms crossed in front of her. "In fact, you've been avoiding me for months now. If this is how it's going to be, at least tell me why!"

There was a long pause between them. The driver pulled up in front of Totsuki's Parliament, and Erina swore he was listening in through the slightly raised partition.

"Nakiri, which is it? Do you want me to leave you alone or not?"

Erina felt the knife-tip sharp retort at the gate of her lips — the '_When did I ever tell you to leave me alone?' _— but then she remembered that there had been too many times. And what made it worse was the fact that she'd never really meant it.

"I...Well I..." She faltered, flipped her hair, grasped for any acceptable reply other than 'I've been fronting since the day I met you.' She settled on, "It doesn't matter to me either way," and then turned her face away from him again.

"Then why are we having this conversation?"

There were a thousand things Erina might have said in retrospect — most of which probably would have made the situation even worse — but in that moment, all her wit and all her words failed her spectacularly.

He looked at her for a long time, then shook his head, probably chastising himself for expecting anything different. "Look, I don't have time for this anymore." He opened the door on his side and stepped out of the car. "Get home safe. I'll see you in class."

Erina rode back to the mansion with her head in her hands.

Why was she like this?

* * *

Erina spent the better part of the weekend in bed, sometimes reading manga or sipping at the rosé she'd "borrowed" from Alice's stash. But she mostly lied facing the wall, clutching a goose feather pillow to her chest.

By Saturday evening, Hisako was convinced she'd come down with some bug, and had taken to bringing her cold towels and hot water bottles and an assortment of teas and medicinal dishes.

Her vigil had been near constant, only letting up when she stepped out to argue with Hayama Akira over Elite Ten matters — "_Calibri is a fuckboy font; I'm changing it to Times New Roman...The Dropbox does not make more sense that way...No, it doesn't...Well, then maybe your organizational skills are limited!"_

"Is Calibri really that bad?" Erina asked when Hisako came back in after one of the more humorous arguments.

"No, he just makes me angry," she leveled, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. Erina shook her head a little bit as that familiar feeling returned to her, the all-consuming annoyance, the exhilarating rage. But then it fled and left her once again in her despondence.

"Are you still not feeling better?" Hisako asked, probably sensing the dip in her mood in the half-spiritual way best friends had. "Do you want me to clear your Monday schedule?"

"Really, Hisako, I feel fine." She sat up in bed as if to demonstrate.

"Are you sure? Because I know Yukihira-kun would take all of your meetings." She pulled out her phone again. "I'll send a text right now. Knowing him, he'll probably bring over some of that ochazuke he was making the other day."

Erina's eyes lowered as she remembered the time at which that would have been true, her heart sinking leagues further with each memory of him going out of his way for her — with her father and Central, with her mother and BLUE. "He won't. Don't text him."

"What do you mean, Erina-sama?"

At this time, Erina decided to cocoon herself her bedding once again. "I ruined everything, and I'm pretty sure he hates me now."

Hisako shot her a questioning glance. "Why would you think that? If anything, I'd say the opposite is true. I mean, that dish at BLUE was—"

"I know," she sighed, her eyes drawing closed. "I know."

And then she told her _everything_.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for reading, everyone, and have a great day! Our girl Erina is going through it lol. Please review and let me know what you think and what you'd like to see in future chapters!


	3. Chapter 3

_You idiot, _

_Pleb,_

"Perhaps it would be best not to start your apology with an insult," Hisako offered as she poured Erina a cup of green tea.

"You're right." The first seat massaged her temples. "Force of habit."

She tossed yet another piece of monogrammed stationery into the recycling bin.

_Yukihira-kun,_

_You are so stupid. _

No, that wasn't quite right.

_You're so goddamn dumb. _

That felt better. But she could tell from her best friend's gentle sigh that it wasn't quite the way to fix things.

_Why is it that you have to_

_I dreamt I stabbed you in the eye. _

"Erina-sama, be serious," Hisako said, nibbling her bottom lip the way she always did when she was trying to keep from laughing.

"Well, it was good enough for the Academy Awards," she said, balling up the piece of paper and tossing it, only for it to bounce off the edge of the trash can and end up on the floor. "Are you absolutely sure I need to do this?"

Hisako nodded once. "You have to be honest. Just write down how you really feel, and then we can edit it later."

Erina took out a fresh piece of stationary — she'd have to order a new set soon — and clicked her pen a few times, nervously. This should not have been this difficult for a person whose reputation had been built on brutal honesty.

She could be honest, couldn't she?

Yukihira-kun,

_I suppose your cooking isn't the worst swill I've ever tried._

_I guess I don't mind so much when you hang around me._

_It's not like I miss you or anything. _

Erina groaned. This was impossible. "I don't suppose I could cook my apology instead?"

Hisako paused for a moment, thinking. Then, "You know, that might actually work. When in doubt, it's always best to stick with what you know. Not that I'm saying you're in doubt, but—"

"No, you're right," Erina said, placing the stationary set back in her desk drawer just a bit too quickly. How glad she was to be done with that. "I'll head out and buy some ingredients. Don't wait up!"

So she wasn't Shakespeare. That was fine — disappointing, especially since Alice had won a food writing contest recently — but fine. She would mend things in a way that only she could. After all, if she had managed to win her mother over with her cooking, how hard would it be to do the same to a cocky diner chef?

* * *

For days the recipe came to her in fits and starts — grilled squid and gelatin, fried rice and floating eggs. Some of it had made sense, but other ideas were fever-dream whimsical, more freestyle than orchestra. It was exactly the kind of irreverent cooking she'd wanted to cast out of her gourmet garden not long ago.

She followed the impulses wherever they led her, to outdoor markets for farm-fresh eggs and specialty vendors for spices.

Erina supposed she should have anticipated what would happen when she had her driver pull up in front of the closest conbini to Totsuki's campus, a 7-Eleven across the street from the train station.

But she hadn't, and then when she was craning her neck back to inspect an impossible wall of instant fried noodles, he appeared.

Yukihira was with Tadokoro-san, as he always appeared to be lately. And as soon as she spotted her, the dark haired girl mumbled something about an ingredient she'd forgotten to pick up and then scrambled into the next row.

He watched her go for a moment, confused, before turning to Erina.

"How's it going, Nakiri?"

Her first thought had been, _you'd know if you were talking to me,_ but she managed to hold it back. Progress.

"I've been well," she said. "You?"

"I'm alright," he replied. "I gotta say, it's a surprise to see you in here. What are you doing?"

Erina's cheeks immediately flushed red. "T-that's none of your concern!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." His eyes dimmed a bit. "See you back at school."

He started to walk away, and Erina realized how tired she was of that image — his retreating back. She would have done just about anything to make him face her again.

"Yukihira-kun, wait!" The words flew forth impromptu, without an itinerary. And before she had time to devise a flight plan, his eyes were on her again.

She met his gaze before glancing about the convenience store aisle for inspiration. Finally her eyes rested on the fried noodles, the whim that had brought her to this hovel in the first place. "Um. Which of these are any good?"

He looked at her for a moment longer, probably sensing bullshit, but then came back over. After inspecting the wall for about a tenth of a second, he picked up a pack in a green plastic wrapper. "These are the best, in my opinion."

Their fingers grazed when he placed it in her hand. Erina felt something loosen in her.

"I see," she said, her voice soft.

After that there was a pregnant silence between them, a war of wills, and Erina knew that it could all be resolved right then and there.

"Yukihira-kun, I...I'm—" she glanced away, cleared her throat. Her heart hammered furiously in her chest and she wondered whether this was what the last moments before death felt like. "I'm sure these noodles will taste like a dirty mop." _Why? _"But thanks, anyway, I guess."

He laughed a little at that, shaking his head. "Dirty mop. That's a new one for you," he observed. Then there was more silence. "Tadokoro's probably waiting."

Erina nodded. "My driver's double parked," she said. "I'll see you on Monday. Don't be late to the Elite Ten meeting."

The apology dish, a checkerboard fried rice — half cooked with squid ink and half without — was finished in three days.

In a rare reversal of roles — the irony of which was not lost on her — she walked her creation to the Polar Star during the noon hour, hoping to convey through her dish what words could not.

But instead of the reconciliation she had hoped for, Erina was met with a disturbing piece of news.

"Souma-kun left the academy," Megumi said, her face a mask of grief and half-concealed accusation. "He's taking a leave of absence to train."

And then the covered plate she had been carrying like a love child slipped from her fingers, cracking against the dorm's floorboards.

Over six months would pass before she saw him again.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everyone, and thank you for your support of this story so far! After this point in the story, some elements of the epilogue chapter will come into play — big thanks to everybody who pointed out Souma's leave of absence in the manga! As I continue writing I'd love to know how much regular school life — the antics of the Elite Ten and whatnot — you all are interested in reading about? I could take a few chapters to focus on other characters (and maybe other ships) or just skip forward in time to when Souma's about to come back. Please let me know what you think! Reviews are always greatly appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

The semester break seemed to pass in the span of an exhale, but much had changed by the time the third years returned to the academy—those who left, anyway. Erina had remained at Totsuki, trying to make sense of her grandfather's haphazard records to have the school ready for when Doujima-san took over as headmaster.

Tadokoro-san was the first to return from her overseas jaunt, and if she met with Yukihira-kun on her travels — as Erina suspected she had — she didn't say so.

Then Alice and Kurokiba arrived from Denmark, largely unchanged save for the fact that they now kissed with tongue. Or maybe they had started that before — last year? When they first came to Totsuki? A decade prior as curious children in the Nordic snow?

Nothing was truly surprising where those two were concerned, but the first time Erina saw them sucking face in one of the Nakiri mansion's parlors, she had flushed and fled the room.

Then, three days later, Hisako returned from her conference sporting a slight tan and a high ponytail and an omnipresent look of contentment. She walked around in a blissful daze for almost a week, wearing sleeveless turtlenecks and flowing summer scarves until Alice returned to her senses for long enough to ask, "Who the hell has been sucking on your neck, Hishoko?"

This inquiry, and the shrill denial it incited, seemed to break whatever spell had taken hold of Hisako, and she subsequently returned to the taciturn persona that had long been her default.

Seconds bled into minutes, to hours, days, weeks, months, interviews, tastings, Elite Ten meetings, stacks of paperwork that stretched to the ceiling.

Erina tried not to think about Yukihira Souma, and valued her pride far too much to ever ask after him, but all efforts to put him out of her head were futile. Every time she managed to go a few hours without wondering whose kitchen he was freelancing in that day, or where he'd slept the night before, or if he was ever going to bother making up his end of year exams, Alice or Takumi or one of their other friends would allude to his latest adventure and the cycle would start over again.

It seemed that everything was changing, her friends, her upstart rival, even the academy itself, while she remained in place as though encased in primordial ice. The monotony became so oppressive that one Sunday afternoon, as she sat in her hair stylist's chair for her monthly trim, the need for change became insatiable.

"Just cut it all off," she said, only glancing up from the email she'd been composing for half a second.

The beautician's eyes widened. "A-are you sure, Nakiri-san?" she asked, her tone dyed with hesitation.

Erina nodded once, pointing to the midpoint on her neck, halfway between earlobe and collar bone. "This length."

As her golden locks hit the pristine salon floor, she felt a weight lift off her.

* * *

The next morning, Erina arrived to the Elite Ten meeting late — a first — and stunned her classmates into silence with her new look.

"What were we talking about?" she asked, taking her seat at the head of the table.

Takumi Aldini, who recovered first, cleared his throat and said, "Themes for the preliminary round of the Autumn Elections. We're trying to settle on a topic that won't give anyone an unfair advantage."

"Someone always has the advantage." Erina made to flip her hair back. Then, finding that it no longer stretched far enough, she simply folded her palms on the table in front of her. "But we can manage who gets it this time."

"Stop stalling and tell us your idea already, Erina," Alice said, managing the hair flip that Erina herself had been denied.

She rolled her eyes, but wouldn't let herself be deterred. "What about diner food?"

The proposal was met with a long incredulous silence. It seemed that no one wanted to be the person made to determine whether she was joking.

"Think about it," the first seat continued. "A growing percentage of new students entering the academy are coming from family restaurants. What better way to welcome them, and move away from the status quo?"

More looks of confusion were exchanged among the council. Erina suspected that it might have lasted the entire meeting if Tadokoro-san hadn't spoken up.

"I think it's a great idea, Nakiri-san," she said as the shocked expression eased its way off her features. "I vote in favor of the proposal."

Takumi and Hisako quickly followed suit, with Alice and Kurokiba adding their names soon after. Within minutes the council reached a unanimous consensus and actually managed to finish a meeting on time.

"That was unexpected," Hisako said to her as they walked down the steps of parliament.

Erina shrugged. "I've been feeling spontaneous lately."

"You know," Hisako said, opening the door to the black town car that was waiting for them outside. She let Erina slide in first before entering herself and closing the door behind her. "Yukihira-kun might die when this gets back to him."

"Good." Erina rolled her eyes a bit. For over two years she had been giving herself mental whiplash reacting to all the surprises that person had sent her way. Now it was her turn to leave him speechless. "Maybe it'll shock him into coming back here before graduation."

Still, it never occurred to her to wonder what was making her so persistent in this endeavor.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everyone! I think the next chapter will be mostly in Souma's point of view and start to explain his side of things (unless you all would prefer to stay in Erina's perspective). At this point, I have a fairly clear idea of what the end of this story will look like, but I'm definitely open to suggestions about these middle chapters, so please let me know what you think! Anyway, I hope you all have a good day!


	5. Chapter 5

Souma had been in Paris for over a month now, cooking in Shinomiya Kojirou's flagship restaurant. It had been his plan to leave weeks ago, but each time he got his things together and mentioned heading to the train station, the owner-chef would invent reasons for him to stay—an ambassador's luncheon to cater, a new seasonal menu to unveil.

At first the line cook job had been as grueling as his stagiaire two years prior, but with each passing day he fell into a rhythm—work from 11 am to 10 pm, practice from 10:30 until four or five in the morning, almost oversleep but manage not to.

He was always exhausted, but he barely slept. Most nights, after he got settled in his bed, his mind drifted back to BLUE, to Totsuki, to her.

_It's disgusting._

_Part of me hopes you lose to Saiba Asahi._

_It's a miracle that you even made it this far. _

The memory alone was always enough to propel him back into the kitchen for another hour, two, three, until he came up with something that might surpass his personal best.

Since Souma arrived at Shino's, his mentor had featured a number of his dishes on the special menu. But even plates that could make it onto a three star menu were pedestrian to her. He had to work harder.

"So you're just not going back to school?" the prize-winning alumnus asked one day after closing. They were sitting on the steps to the back entrance, smoking cigarettes and sipping brandy.

"I'll go back when I've learned enough to achieve my goal," Souma said, repeating verbatim the response he used every time Takumi or Hayama called to nag him about his studies or his Elite Ten paperwork respectively.

"You're still after the first seat?"

Although he willed them not to, his thoughts drifted to Nakiri again, to her new short hair and her old short temper. Part of him seriously doubted that there'd ever be a day when she accepted him or his cooking, but here he was halfway around the world, trying anyway.

She was right to call him a fool.

Well, at least she wasn't all timid and tearful anymore; if nothing else, that girl was built to be high and mighty.

He sighed, shook his head. "Something like that."

In another two weeks, Tsukasa Eishi and Kobayashi Rindou popped up to drag Shinomiya back to Tokyo to judge the Autumn Elections.

"You come back too, Yukihira," Rindou said, draping an arm around his shoulders. She had just glutted herself on all of Souma's new dishes and was hellbent on making him her personal chef. "I'll buy your ticket right now. Or you could have Eishi's seat."

"Hey, Rindou!" The former first seat protested, his face blanching.

"Oi, Kobayashi," Shinomiya said, his face hard. "If you take my whole staff with you, who's going to be left to run this kitchen?"

"Come on, senpai. You know you can't keep my cute underclassman here forever. He has to graduate." Then she turned to Souma, her eyes sharp and catlike. "Besides, don't you want to see what the freshmen do with that theme?"

Something about the way she said it made Souma curious. "What did the council end up going with?"

Rindou's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You really don't know?"

Souma shook his head. Maybe he shouldn't have kept screening Takumi's phone calls.

"Well, Princess Erina went ahead and picked diner food."

Souma blinked a few times, waiting for the wolfish gotcha grin to spread on the Totsuki alumna's face, but it never came. "There's no way Nakiri would do something like that. Maybe the others overruled her in a vote?"

"To my understanding," Eishi cut in sheepishly, "it was all Erina-san's doing, and she was very adamant about it."

"But why would she—"

"Maybe she wants to get back together," Rindou offered, offering a cheeky grin. "You left because she was too cold, right? Well, this ought to turn the heat back up."

"Rindou," Eishi chided. "You can't just ask personal questions like that."

She rolled her eyes and waved him off. "Listen, as an alum, it's my solemn responsibility to advise the chefs coming behind me," she said. "Now are you going to take her back or what?"

Souma glanced up at the ceiling, scarcely able to fathom what he was hearing. Why the hell would she choose a theme like that? She did always like to poke fun at him, but she took Totsuki way to seriously to botch an old tradition like the Autumn Elections over a prank.

Though in the past he'd thought of himself as a decent conversationalist, it took him several moments to come up with a response.

"Look, now you two have gone and broken my apprentice." Shinomiya said, shaking his head. "I knew it had to be something like this, though. I've always known you were stupid, but were you really dumb enough to break up with Nakiri Erina?"

"Nakiri was never my girlfriend," Souma said finally. "I think she'd pluck off all her taste buds first." He forced a laugh out after this, but the thought left him feeling hollow. "Anyway, you all should probably finish packing. I'll close up here."

And then he was down in cold storage taking inventory until he was certain all of them were gone.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everyone! After reading people's comments on the last chapter, I decided that I will probably go into Souma's point of view every now and then, but still keep the focus of the story on Erina and her development. Please let me know what you think, and I hope you all have a great day!


	6. Chapter 6

As the Autumn Elections drew closer, Erina felt confident that she had effectively summoned Yukihira home. She had expected him to pop up any day now, smirking and joking and being his normal insufferable self. But when the main judges for the preliminary round arrived on campus, her plans were essentially thwarted.

"These are your schedules for the day of the contest," she explained, handing each of them the laminated agendas Hisako had prepared the night before.

"Thanks, Erina-san," Eishi said with an appreciative smile.

"Tsukasa, we have to go back to Paris after this," she heard Kobayashi-san say as they got settled in their lounge.

Eishi heaved a heavy sigh, gratefully taking the mineral water Tadokoro Megumi had placed in front of him. "Rindou, we can't fly back to Europe just so you can eat Yukihira's grilled octopus again."

"But it was so yummy," the red haired woman protested.

Erina's ears perked up when she heard his name. Then, inspecting her manicure and trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, she asked, "Yukihira-kun is in Paris?"

She'd had a feeling he would land there somehow, but calling her contacts to ask about it would have been too bold a move.

"Mhmm. He's been working at Shino's and senpai won't let him leave because he's selfish."

At this, the bespectacled chef chafed. "How is it selfish? Do you have any idea how many chefs would commit murder for a spot in my kitchen?"

"At least pay him more if you're going to keep using his recipes."

Shinomiya waved her off. "The experience will pay for itself many times over."

Erina tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. "Oh. Did he say when he's planning on coming back?"

"I tried to bring him for you, but he said no," Rindou said with a sigh. "It looks like you're on your own with this one."

Like clockwork, Erina's cheeks began to flush. "I-it's not as if I care when he comes back. Hayama-kun and I are just tired of picking up his slack with the Elite Ten work."

"You underclassmen are really hopeless when it comes to this stuff." Rindou shook her head slowly, wearing an amused grin. "Just call him and say come home already. It's much easier than coming up with all these elaborate plans."

In retrospect, it was probably the soundest, most sober-minded advice the adventurous cook had ever offered, but in the moment it sounded as off-color as jumping out of a cake.

The Autumn Elections came and went, and a winter frost encroached upon every exposed surface on campus. Every evening Alice and Kurokiba sat by the fireplace, comparing luxury condos they might move into after graduation. Hisako started coming home later and later, those curious red marks cropping up on her neck and collarbone every few weeks. The quiet frustration Erina had been sensing from Tadokoro-san gradually faded as she and Takumi spent more time together in the Elite Ten libraries.

And when she finally worked up the nerve to fly to Paris, Chef Shinomiya reported that Yukihira had left a week prior.

"Where?" she asked with an exhausted sigh, taking the wine he poured her gratefully.

"South America, I think," the alumnus said. "He left a number for the kitchen he's working in. I can tell him you came by—"

"No, don't!"

Shinomiya gave her a long look, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "I'm getting tired of you kids and your lovers' quarrel—"

Erina's face morphed into a scandalized expression. "We're not...I mean it isn't—"

"Oh, but it is because you are here, in my restaurant, ten thousand kilometers away from home, looking for a boy you're on the outs with. That is the textbook definition of a lovers' quarrel. In fact, it's a Hallmark movie."

Erina cringed, instantly regretting mimicking the approach of the heroine in her latest shoujo manga. "I'm sorry for troubling you with this," she said, her eyes lowered. "I should be going, at any rate."

The older chef's features softened a bit. "Stay for dinner," he said.

Erina's grandfather had always told her that dishes worthy of the title of specialty made you see the face of the chef. And the moment the fluffy omurice souffle touched her lips, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was his recipe.

The whimsical combination of flavors, the shiro soy sauce and Gruyère cheese, sent a warmth coursing through her veins despite the winter weather.

She kept replaying each component in her memory throughout the journey home and wondered what she'd say about it if she ever saw him again.

* * *

Takumi wasn't sure when it had happened, but in in the months since Yukihira left, he had become closer to Tadokoro-san. At first, he had thought it his responsibility to look out for her in his rival's absence, but in time, he found himself seeking her company at every possible moment.

On one such occasion, when they were lounging on the couch in his Elite Ten office, writing thank you notes to this year's stagiare hosts until their hands cramped up, he had been working up the nerve to ask her out for coffee when she received a phone call from a New York number.

"It's probably Souma-kun," she said. "He left Buenos Aires for Brooklyn a week ago."

Takumi fought down the spark of annoyance that came over him; so the second seat _was_ capable of picking up a phone after all.

"Hello," Megumi said to the person on the other line. "Yes, this is she...I am his emergency contact, why?..._What_?"

Takumi watched as her expression shifted from slight confusion to worry. He had been learning the body language of her anxiety — the way she nibbled her lip and fussed with her braid.

"I see...I am still in Japan, but it doesn't matter. I'll be there as soon as possible. Thank you for calling."

She hung up the phone and immediately started packing up her messenger bag. "Forgive me, Takumi-kun," she said. "I promise I'll finish my portion later, but I have to get to the airport!"

"Don't worry about the notes," he said, lightly jogging to keep up with her as she sped down the hallway. It was sometimes easy to forget that the girl had been an athlete before coming to Totsuki. "What's wrong?"

She turned to him, golden eyes welling with tears. "Souma-kun is in the hospital. Sorry, but I...I have to go right away."

She ran off then, at her legendary hopping-hare speed. He knew that by the time he reached the Polar Star, she'd probably be in a cab to the airport.

Two feelings came over Takumi as he watched her go. The first, naturally, was concern for their friend, but the second—more insidious, more fervent—was the numbing realization that he didn't have any chance with her the way things were now.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everybody! New new chapter brought to you by my flight getting delayed by over four hours. I didn't plan on it, but I ended up slipping a little Takumegu into the story. Please let me know what you think! I hope you're all having a better day than I am lol.


	7. Chapter 7

Souma blinked slowly; his head was fucking killing him. Perhaps working back to back ten-hour shifts at two separate restaurants—one in West Village, the other a few subway stops away in Hell's Kitchen—hadn't been one of his better ideas.

Blacking out after the end of his last dinner service had left him with a mild concussion and a hospital bill that would make a serious dent in his prize money from BLUE. He had been getting ready to check himself out and try to make it for lunch service at the West Village restaurant when a member of the hospital staff informed him that his "girlfriend" had arrived.

Despite the vast improbability of it, the first thing he imagined was Nakiri storming in—short haired and scowling—to complain about how he'd wasted so much of her precious time making her haul ass out to North America.

But then reality set in; no way would she _ever_. He must've hit his head harder than he thought.

Before he could fully contemplate the scope of Nakiri's indifference towards him, Tadokoro came rushing into the room, a few strands of hair escaping her usually neat braid. She flung her arms around him, standing on her tip-toes to hug him properly.

"Souma-kun!"

"Tadokoro...why aren't you at school?" he asked, looking down at her half-shocked.

"The people...they called me and said you collapsed, so I just..." She sighed, resting her forehead against his chest. "I guess I didn't really think things through. Nakiri-san is going to be annoyed that I left without notice."

"You really flew out here from Tokyo?"

Megumi shrugged, glancing down at her shoes. "I mean, why wouldn't I?" she asked as though it were the simplest thing in the world to drop everything and fly clear across the globe. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," Souma assured, grinning despite the dull pounding that persisted behind his temples. "Sorry if I scared you."

"I reckon I'm used to it by now," she replied, each word was drenched in her country drawl. "I swear, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days!"

"Let me show you around the city," he said as they started to make their way to the elevator. "There's this Caribbean restaurant out in Williamsburg that you'd really like. If we walk down to 14th Street and get on the L-train we can..." Souma trailed off, feeling the weight of her stare on him. "What's the matter?"

"You never learn," she said with a weary smile.

"What do you mean?"

"If you don't take some time to recuperate, you'll end up feeling worse. You still have a pretty bad headache, right?"

How did she _always_ do that? Souma had seldom been able to get anything past her since the day they met.

"Let's go back to your place for now. You can show me the L-train next week."

Souma glanced at her quizzically. Throughout their years at the academy, he could count the number of days she'd taken off on one hand. "You're gonna stay?"

Megumi nodded once, although Souma could tell from her pensive look that she'd just decided on it. "If you can go backpacking for six months, what's a week or two?"

* * *

It was becoming a pet peeve of Erina's, being the last person to find out about things. And when said matters pertained to a certain impertinent redhead, her frustration crested even faster than usual.

Given these facts, when Erina stepped into the Elite Ten lounge to find everyone milling around the french press, talking about how Tadokoro-san had rushed overseas to fuss over Yukihira-kun, it took a herculean effort for her to control her facial expressions as she vacillated between irritation, concern, and perhaps...perhaps a pinprick of jealousy. No, that couldn't be right.

"So she really just started jogging?" Alice asked Takumi. She had been pressing the blond for details all morning.

"Sprinting is more like it," he said, his expression unreadable. "At any rate, she texted me last night and said she wouldn't be back until next Monday."

The white haired Nakiri whistled. "Now that's dedication," she said before glancing at her secretary turned boyfriend. "Ryo-kun, would you do that for me if something happened?"

Kurokiba shrugged. "I mean, I guess."

Her cousin placed her hands on her hips, cheeks puffed up in an exaggerated pout. "At least sound more sure than that!"

The conversation drifted into their official meeting, and Erina found herself so irritated that she adjourned it only thirty minutes in.

As soon as her peers dispersed, Erina retreated to her office and sank into the chair behind her mahogany desk, waiting for her heartbeat to return a normal rate. She left the lights off.

He was so _goddamn_ stupid, pushing himself to the brink like that. And for what?

It was unjust, really; why did he get to run her nerves ragged like this from halfway around the goddamn world?

In a few minutes, Hisako came in, bearing a cup of chamomile tea on a porcelain saucer.

"Thank you, Hisako." She straightened up. "How did you—"

"I could feel you seething from across the room," the pink haired girl revealed. "He'll be alright, you know." She placed a gentle hand on Erina's shoulder. "I just checked in with Tadokoro-san"

Erina nodded. "I'm glad she's with him," she said, mostly meaning it despite the invisible blade the words lodged between her ribs. "Did she say which hospital it was?"

"I can ask," she said pulling out her cell phone. "Do you want me to?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Erina said. "But please be discrete about it. I'm going to pay the bill with one of my Swiss accounts, the one with no names attached."

Hisako began texting away, trying to hide a smile behind the rose gold iPhone. "That's really sweet of you, Erina-sama."

"It's a precaution," the first seat said, cheeks pinking rapidly. "Because if he ends up overworking again to make up the money, I'll kill him myself."

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everyone! I've always been interested in juxtaposing Erina and Megumi's styles of affection, so it ended up manifesting a bit in this chapter. Please let me know what you think, and I hope you all have a good day!


	8. Chapter 8

The Elite Ten retreat had been Alice's idea, so Erina probably should have anticipated that it wouldn't be remotely serious.

The rationale had been that a change of scenery would get the team's creativity flowing so they might come up with some event or ritual to leave their mark on the academy. However, as soon as they boarded their charter jet to the all-inclusive beach resort, all pretensions of productivity became lost footprints in the sand.

"You were complaining a lot at first," Alice said she, Erina, and Hisako sat in massage chairs, getting gel pedicures and facials with edible ingredients. "But you have to admit it—we needed this."

Erina scowled, adjusting her complimentary robe. "What we needed was to finish the budget for the spring festival."

"We'll do it on the plane ride back," Alice replied, waving her off. "For now just enjoy Santorini."

"She does have a point, Erina-sama," added Hisako, whose face was still covered in a brown sugar mask.

"See!" Alice said. "If even someone as neurotic as Hishoko says you need to relax, then you know it's true." Then she turned to Kurokiba, who was standing by her side with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. "Babe, can I get another grape leaf?"

With her fingernails wrapped in preparation for her appointment with the manicurist, the white haired Nakiri's hands had been rendered essentially useless.

Kurokiba brought one to her lips and she smiled appreciatively. "Just one question, Alice," he said, ever monotone.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you tell me to come here shirtless?"

She shrugged. "Because I love you."

"You're ridiculous," Kurokiba said, though his eyes told a completely different story.

"Yeah, yeah. Just feed me another mini spanakopita."

Despite all her efforts to look less sheltered and naive in front of her cousin, Erina could not keep her eyes from widening, her cheeks from flushing. How could she be so damn cavalier about saying something like that?

She glanced over at Hisako, expecting that her best friend would be similarly stunned, but she just shook her head. If looks could speak, the pink haired girl's said 'just get a room already.'

Erina was still wondering just how her cousin had become so comfortable with the kinds of words that all but rendered her mute when a member of the hotel waitstaff arrived with an assortment of trays.

"We actually didn't order anything," Hisako said. "You might have the wrong room. There are a number of us here with Totsuki Academy."

The waiter smiled apologetically. "Our chef in residence actually asked that I bring this up to you when he learned you were staying here," he said. "Is one of you called Miss Erina?"

Alice gave a mirthless laugh and pointed to her cousin, fingertips still clad in acetone and tin foil. "I had forgotten what it was like to travel with the god tongue. Everybody always wants you to write them a good review."

"It's so presumptuous," Erina huffed even as she lifted the metal lid off the dish. "Please do tell whoever sent you that there is usually an application process and ten-month waiting period to observe before I try the cooking of chefs with fewer than two Michelin attached to their names. However, I'm feeling gracious today."

It was a dessert, an egg custard mousse topped with fresh honeycomb in a bowl of delicate rice flour pastry.

Of all things...

She studied the dish carefully, weighing the simple presentation against the level of precision necessary it to make it work. She could feel her heart beating double time.

Let the records show that Erina had her suspicions since the moment the hapless waiter walked in, but once she tasted it, there wasn't a doubt left in her mind.

She had never known Yukihira to be a particularly gifted pastry chef, but his mastery over those ingredients — ones that had been the culinary nexus of their ever-changing relationship, or lack thereof, for years now — sent shock waves crashing through her.

"These are actually really good," Hisako said as she sampled the matcha roll cake that he had probably included just for her. "What do you think of yours, Erina-sama?"

Her gaze fell again upon the dessert, the honeycomb glazed and dripping in a way that seemed almost erotic. She couldn't help but take another two bites before she responded. "It's fine, I suppose."

Already, she was planning the excuses she'd use to disappear later that night.

* * *

The hotel's restaurant stopped taking orders at eleven and closed promptly at midnight. So at 12:25 am, when the last of the kitchen staff started strolling out, Nakiri Erina could be found pacing the lobby in a striped sundress and a denim jacket, mumbling to herself.

She had just decided — for the twenty-third time in the past ten minutes — to head back to her room and watch rom-coms with Hisako when he approached her.

"Yo, Nakiri."

Hearing his voice after all this time, so casual and warm, sent both rage and affection coursing through her.

"Yo Nakiri?" She whirled on him — noting the couple centimeters he had grown and the fact that his hair was getting longish again — and scowled. "You drop off the face of the earth for almost a year, completely flouting school-wide policies and abusing Elite Ten executive privilege, and all you have to say to me is 'Yo Nakiri'?"

"You know, your hair looks nice like that," he told her, unfazed as ever by her death stare. "How have you been?"

"I mean, as someone with common sense and a shred of self preservation, I've managed to keep myself out of the ER," she said with a pointed look.

"Alright, that's more than I can say," he conceded. "And thanks, by the way. I promise I'm gonna pay you back soon."

Erina crossed her arms in front of her chest. There was no way Hisako would have told him, right? "I-I have no idea what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Nakiri. Who else uses Swiss bank accounts?"

Erina tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, her face on fire. "It could have been Alice," she argued lamely, "or Mito-san."

"Either of them would have just said so."

A valid point, indeed.

"A-at any rate, whoever it is that paid off the bill would be utterly offended at the idea of accepting money from some upstart commoner, so you may as well forget about it."

He gave her a small smirk, and Erina could tell that she'd put her foot in her mouth again somehow.

"What?" she snapped, just wanting to get it over with.

"I never said anything about a bill."

Erina heaved a sigh from the depths of her. "I hate you," she said, unable to meet his eyes.

"I got that the first five thousand times you said it," he told her, the smirk fading slightly. "But if you hate me so much, what are you doing down here at damn near one in the morning?"

Usually a question this direct would send Erina reaching for her worst insults, but this time she was prepared. "How about you tell me why you're sending desserts to my massage room when you said you were going to leave me alone?"

He sighed. "Believe me, I tried. But you're hard to forget about, Nakiri."

"That sounds like a you problem," Erina said with a huff. "Although..." She cleared her throat. "Although I'd be lying if I said you haven't crossed my mind as well. Not often, though. Definitely not often."

"Got'cha." He was smiling at her again, turning her insides to slush. "So where does that leave us?"

"With you booking a flight back to Tokyo," she said. "And a plate on my desk first thing tomorrow."

"And if I refuse?"

Despite her sweating palms and racing heart, Erina made her best effort to appear calm, imperious. "You won't."

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everyone! Please note that I wanted to make them kiss so damn badly in this chapter, but then I felt like it wasn't quite time for it yet. There may be some hotel shenanigans in the next chapter, or we can just timeskip back to Totsuki. Also, I saw that some people had questions about this, so I wanted to mention that this story is not in any way a prequel to "On Casual Commitments" or "Between Us"! Anyway, please let me know what you think, and I hope you have a great day.


	9. Chapter 9

Erina had never gotten into the habit of ordering room service. Truthfully, she didn't think highly enough of other people's cooking to run the risk of some errant server seeing her in her pajamas over it. But she'd had Yukihira bring breakfast up to her hotel room for the past three mornings.

Despite her best attempts at nonchalance, she found herself waking up well before seven on those days, selecting outfits and applying the peach scented lip gloss she couldn't be bothered to unearth from her toiletry bag most of the time. And when she heard him knocking on her door in that rhythmic, playful way he had, her pulse started racing.

She took two calming breaths, sprayed a rose scented perfume on the insides of her wrists, and quickly fluffed her hair before opening the door.

"Morning, Nakiri." Yukihira Souma casually leaned against the door frame, his newest creation in one hand. He took his time looking her over in a way that would've made Erina shriek back when they were first years. "You look nice."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest. "So, what do you have this time?"

"Breakfast yakisoba," he explained, setting the covered tray down at her desk.

"How obscene," Erina said, smirking despite herself.

There was no way a dish that heavy should be able to translate to anything remotely appropriate to eat first thing in the morning, but she would be an absolute fool to doubt him at this point.

The moment she brought the first bite to her lips, the sound of a sweet aria began to overtake reality; she was drenched in sunlight, caressed by gentle breeze, taken into the arms of a lover in the warm pink sand.

She released a breathy sigh as the flavors teased and delighted her sensitive palate, crossing her legs tightly at the ankles to hide the weak-kneed trembling.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself," Yukihira said once she was done. "How did it taste?"

Erina glanced down at her lap for a brief reprieve from his honey eyes. For some reason, it was becoming ever more difficult for her to lie to his face. "Am I supposed to be your guinea pig?"

Yukihira chuckled a bit. "You're really never gonna give me a straight answer?"

"I don't see why I should have to," she said, standing up. "Aren't you supposed to be the people's cook, anyway? What would it do to your proletariat following if the common folk found out you were this desperate for my approval?"

"Approval?" he repeated, looking sincerely confused. "I'm trying to make you admit defeat."

Erina scoffed. "You must still be concussed if you think that's ever going to happen. All the kitchen jobs in the world won't put you on my level."

"You say that, Nakiri, but your legs are still shaking."

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! _What had she ever done to deserve this kind of body betrayal?

"It's just a chill," she said, "From the AC."

"Wanna head down to the beach then?" he asked. "You could warm up."

Erina shook her head. "I have too much paperwork to catch up on."

"Isn't the Elite Ten here on holiday?"

"It's a holiday not one of us can afford, especially since our second seat decided to spend half a year 'finding himself'—"

"I've been training—"

"Whatever the hell it is that you do," she said with narrowed eyes and a dismissive wave. "Some of us still have responsibilities."

Yukihira just watched her for a moment, and Erina felt the resolve draining out of her like grains of sand in an hourglass.

"So...come back in like an hour, and you'll be dressed?"

"Yes." She sighed. "Bring a picnic basket for lunch or something."

When he left the room, Erina felt certain the last of her willpower had gone with him this time.

* * *

A lifelong student of traditional medicine, Arato Hisako believed that she had uncovered all the secrets of the human body. She knew which herbs to brew to lower a fever, induce sleep, or restore energy. She could create the desired effects of keto and paleo diets without any of the restrictions and stop a brutal hangover in its tracks. She could diagnose all types of common ailments with the precision of western doctors, and usually in half the time—though her personal code often prevented her from doing so.

Though minds and emotions were a different breed of complicated—one she often couldn't be bothered with—bodies were simple, mundane, unsurprising.

Yet every time Hayama Akira slipped his hand beneath the waistband of her skirt, she learned new lessons of anatomy—the science of teasing and edging and low, lewd whispers, case studies in sensitive nerves and muscle spasms.

To put if frankly, he got her off. Without fail, whenever she asked, as reliable as the laws of motion or gravity. And as cool-tempered and high-minded as she felt content to believe she was, Hisako liked it. Too much to stop, too much to even want to. There was only one real drawback to their current arrangement, and it plagued her mind constantly.

"We are going to get caught," she murmured as he sucked her neck on some secluded stretch of beach on their resort's property.

"No one's out this early," he told her, and Hisako felt the low rumble of his voice against her collar bone.

"It was early two hours ago," she replied, as she she ran her fingers through his gorgeous silvery hair despite herself. Responsible fools that they were, they had actually brought breakfast and some work outside with them. "Now it's prime beach going time."

"Do you want to stop?"

At this Hisako scoffed, glancing down at her swimsuit bottom. "Does it feel like I want to stop?" she asked. "We have to, though."

And just like that, the scene was over. They were no longer passionate lovers, but tepid co-workers who tolerated one another only out of necessity. The first time this shift took place, Hisako thought it would be permanent, but then she came to realize how reluctant they both were to give up this pastime.

"Are we heading back to your room?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Yours. Erina-sama would die if we saw her sneaking around with Yukihira." And vice versa, if she were being completely honest with herself.

"He's here?" Akira asked. "Since when?"

"Since before we got here," Hisako explained. "Why do you think I booked this resort when Alice started complaining about a break?"

"Why all the scheming?" he asked. "Can't those two handle their own affairs?"

Hisako gave him a quizzical look. "That's strangely optimistic of you," she said. "But knowing them, they would have never been on the same continent again if somebody didn't help them."

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for reading, everyone! There may be one more chapter of hotel shenanigans featuring Ryoali and Takumegu before they head back to Totsuki. Please let me know what you think, and have a great day!


	10. Chapter 10

It was half past midnight when Yukihira Souma arrived at Erina's hotel room with a venison steak and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon after she'd sent him a text that only vaguely hinted she wanted a late night snack.

Usually her demanding tasting schedule and strict fitness regimen would absolutely prohibit such rich fare so late at night, but the red haired chef had broken every one of her rules thus far. What harm would there be in putting a dent in one more?

She was already halfway through the decadent dish, pulse quickening each time the majestically marinated meat grazed her sensitive palate, when she noticed he hadn't asked about the flavor yet.

Erina gazed at her second seat carefully, noting his slightly slumped posture and unusual pallor. She knew that as soon as he noticed her looking, he'd straighten up and try to entertain her. For the first time, she began to rethink the effects of summoning him to her side at all hours.

"You look tired, Yukihira-kun," she said, attempting to sift all traces of care out of her tone. "You really thought you could make a dish good enough to please me when you're in this condition?"

"I'm alright," he replied, and Erina could practically see him turning up the dial on his megawatt smile. "Just had to work double shifts these past few days."

"You work too much," she said before taking another sip of the cabernet—her liquid courage. "And you don't have to pretend for me. I can tell when your energy is fake."

"Are you really the one to talk about working too much?" he asked with a slight smirk.

Erina rolled her eyes. This was textbook Yukihira. He always tried to change the subject the moment someone showed the least bit of concern for him. "Oh no. You and I are not in the same category," she said. "I take care of myself."

"I do—"

"No, you don't," she said. "Case in point, when was the last time you've eaten something? And I don't mean tasting a dish you're about to serve or tampering with a recipe. I mean sitting down to eat an actual meal."

Yukihira glanced at her sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Probably before work this morning."

Erina sighed. That was even worse than she'd anticipated. "You are such a fool," she said, stomping over to the hotel room's small kitchenette.

"Nakiri, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" she asked, pulling her hair into a short ponytail. "I'm making you dinner."

She'd bought the ingredients for the apology dish she invented before he left days ago, but never quite worked up the nerve to make it for him. Now, for a lack of much else in her mini-fridge, it seemed that the universe was forcing her hand.

The checkerboard fried rice, as she had originally conceived it, was a dish that required the use of two woks that would be swung simultaneously. In one, the rice would be tossed with squid ink, truffle oil, and sakura shrimp among a handful of other luxury ingredients. Meanwhile, the other would hold far humbler fare—white onion, roast pork, soy sauce, and green peas. Then, in a bold move, she'd combine the separate preparations for three final tosses before the cohesive dish was ready for plating.

Although the process was made far less glamorous by the kitchenette's simple frying pans, the effect on the palate remained the same—a dance between high-end and low-brow flavors, a sweet sojourn through the different realms of deliciousness.

In short, it was the story of them laid bare on a mid-grade hotel porcelain plate.

She walked the finished product over to him carefully, chest heaving with the exertion of preserving its perfection in such a bare-bones cooking space and the nerves that came with allowing her true feelings to be made known.

Yukihira looked from her face to the dish to her face again, as though transfixed. "This is...you came up with all of that just now?"

"It's something that's been on my mind for a while now," she said, her cheeks pinking with the admission. "Now shut up and try it already, before it gets cold."

Naturally, the diner chef did not need to be told twice.

The moment he took the first bite, Erina swore she saw the color return to his cheeks and the familiar lightning strike of mischief to his golden eyes. As far as she could recall, it was the first time she ever tried to make him feel better and succeeded.

"Nakiri, you're a genius," he said when he'd gotten through the plate. It was always a testament to the quality of one's cooking, how easily it got people to be quiet.

"It was nothing special," she said coyly before reaching for the remote and turning the television on. The WGO Network was a welcome distraction from the emotions churning within her. "Why don't we finish the wine?"

Four glasses of cabernet and two hours of cooking reality shows later, Yukihira Souma had fallen into a deep sleep on Erina's bed. For a moment she watched him, studying the rise and fall of his chest and his obnoxiously sprawled out posture. If what she learned about his sleeping habits during the Central saga still held true, this was probably the best rest he'd gotten in weeks.

It couldn't be helped.

With a half-rueful sigh, she banished the thought of waking him up and went to put his phone on the charger. She had just gotten through disabling his early AM alarms and emailing him out of work when a text message from his father flashed across the screen, too quick for her to look away in time.

_My advice is confess to her already. A girl like Erina won't wait for long. _

She threw the phone down and blinked once, twice, waiting for the characters to change, to learn that she was somehow mistaken. After a minute, two, five, the information remained uncontested.

Erina brushed her teeth, turned off the lights, and—after briefly considering both the floor and Hisako's room—got into bed next to the boy who somehow had feelings for her, even after she'd given him every reason not to.

Normally, news of this nature would have kept her up all night, but—mind addled by the wine and the warmth of her own feelings—Erina quickly fell asleep to the sound of his steady breathing.

And neither of them would get up until after noon.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for reading, everyone! Sorry about the lack of update last week (I had to attend a conference for work over the weekend and didn't really have any free time to write). Please let me know what you think, and enjoy the rest of the weekend!


	11. Chapter 11

"Erina awoke to the midday sun's rays filtering in through the sheer curtains. As she drifted back into consciousness, her senses returned to her slowly—the scent of fresh linens and lavender pillow mist, the sound of easy breathing beside her. Then her face warmed as she became aware of Yukihira-kun's hand on the small of her back and his toned chest beneath her cheek.

The night before she had taken great pains to position herself on the far edge of the bed, so that another person could sleep between them if they saw fit. So how the hell had they managed to get tangled up like this?

As Erina attempted to shimmy out of the embrace, all the while trying not to spontaneously combust from the close contact, Yukihira's eyes blinked open.

He regarded her with tired eyes and a lazy smile. "Mornin' Nakiri."

Erina cursed herself, scarcely unable to come up with a thought unrelated to how adorable he was.

"Morning?" she scoffed, willing the besotted flush to leave her cheeks. "It has to be at least two in the afternoon."

"Fuck, I've gotta get to work!" Suddenly, he looked ready to sprint downstairs and start his shift.

"Relax," Erina said, stretching languidly before sitting up in bed. She ran her fingers through her short tresses, trying in vain to neaten them. "I called you out. You're fine."

"Thanks for that," he said. "Head chef threw a live lobster at the last person who showed up late for a shift."

Erina chuckled a little. "Sounds like my kind of guy."

"You'd like him. But he's not as creative as you are with his insults."

"As if anyone could be," she said, finally scooting off the bed. "I'm going to go shower, and then start packing."

"You're heading back to Japan soon?"

"Tomorrow," she said. "And I um..." Erina glanced down, nibbling her lower lip. Even with what she'd learned last night, this was all still so difficult for her. "I was wondering if you would come home with us."

Yukihira met her eyes with a stunned expression. "Really?"

"I mean," she said, tucking strands of hair behind her ear, "you have to agree it would be best for the academy to have the full Elite Ten on campus."

He smirked at her. "Remember when you thought having me thrown out of school would be best for the academy?"

Erina rolled her eyes. "Don't think I haven't ruled that possibility out!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "But...I think we've both grown a lot since then. Just think about it."

"I will, and..." he paused. "Do you want to go for a walk later tonight?"

She raised her eyebrows fractionally, half-ready to ask what he was up to, but the voice of reason took hold and replied, "Sure. Why not?"

* * *

Takumi had headed down to the gift shop for the third time that day, determined to finally decide which mugs he would buy for his mother and _nonna,_ when he saw her.

Megumi was wearing a white sundress and flip-flops, toting about a dozen postcards and clearly on the lookout for more.

"Good afternoon, Tadokoro-san," he said once he'd made up his mind to approach her.

Her smile was calm and gentle as the slow lapping waves at low tide. "It's good to see you Takumi-kun. It feels like we haven't spoken much lately."

Takumi released a small sigh. What a fool he had been.

In the weeks after her jaunt to New York City, he had kept his distance, convinced that her affections would remain with Yukihira for the foreseeable future and that it would be better for him to move on. But each time he saw her smile that smile he would slay demons for, he was reminded of the sheer futility of his efforts.

"Sorry if I've seemed distant."

"No worries," she replied, "Everyone's been really busy getting ready for graduation."

"Do you know what you'll do?" he asked.

Megumi sighed. "I always assumed I'd go straight back to my hometown and be with everyone."

"Big family?" he asked, nodding towards the host of postcards in her hands.

"Not really, but everyone in the town feels like an aunt or uncle or cousin." She closed her eyes, lost in memories of her childhood by the sea. "But now, after everything I've seen in these past few years I..." She shook her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to just unload all of this on you. Normally I'd talk to—"

"You can talk to me, Tadokoro-san. About anything, at any time."

And then the smile was there again, demure and dazzling in equal parts.

"You're always so kind, Takumi-kun," she said, one of her hands drifting up to her braid. By now Takumi recognized the gesture as one of her nervous tics—but what reason did she have to feel anxious?

"What is it?"

"It's nothing, just..." She paused and cleared her throat, her cheeks pinking. "Maybe...before graduation we could maybe..."

"Get coffee sometime?" he asked, unable to keep the grin off his face.

She nodded, flushed and wordless, and Takumi swore he'd remember that look she gave him when he was in his eighties.

"There's a new espresso bar that opened close to campus," he said, trying to sound casual, like he hadn't visited the place three times already to ensure that it had the right atmosphere. "Maybe we could go together after classes one day."

"I'd like that a lot," she said. "Now let's finish up here so we can finish packing on time."

* * *

As promised, Erina went out to meet him on the beach that night, after getting massages with Alice and confirming the details of their return home with Hisako. When she had inquired about the possibility of an extra seat on their private plane, her best friend had responded with a nod and a knowing smile.

She had taken a moment to wonder, as she walked through the cool sand in her flip-flops, how her best friend had become privy to all of Erina's secrets while safeguarding her own, but the thought left her mind the moment she saw him.

Yukihira in dark jeans and a button down shirt—it had to be the most dressed up she'd ever seen him.

She smirked, crossing her arms. "You almost look like a real adult there. Is it because the rest of your clothes are already packed?"

Yukihira's contented grin, the one with which he always seemed to appraise her as of late, fell and he released a sigh. "Nakiri."

Erina held her breath, her every muscle tense, as she prepared for his next words to break her heart. "Don't 'Nakiri' me," she said, managing to keep her voice from wavering. "Just come home."

He shook his head. "That dish you made last night confirmed it," he told her. "Right now, there's still a world of skill between you and me. I can't make the kind of food that you're looking for the way I am now. Maybe in a few years, after I've trained some more overseas—"

"You'll still be an idiot, won't you?" Erina said, mostly to herself.

"Then I'll be the idiot whose cooking you find delicious," he said with a shrug. "But until I reach that goal, I won't come back to Totsuki."

Erina's eyes drew closed and she felt the warming prick of tears beneath her lids. She had caused this, all of it. "If your mind is made up, I can't stop you. But you should know this." She paused, exhaled deeply, and forced herself to look up at him. "I know I don't always act like it, but even if I hated every dish you made for the rest of your life, I would still want you around me. A...and beyond that, if I had to eat your cooking every day, I doubt I'd ever be disappointed. I don't know if this changes anything for you, but I thought I'd tell you anyway."

Yukihira stared at her for a moment, processing. "So this whole time..."

Erina sighed. "Yes, this whole time. You have never served me a dish I didn't like on some level. Not once."

"Then, why did you always—"

"If I knew what made me act like this, do you think I'd still be doing it?" she asked. "Anyway, now you know. So I guess I'll see you in six more months, or a year, or whatever you had in mind." With that, Erina turned on her heel and started back in the direction of the hotel, but she only made it a few steps before she felt his hand on her arm.

"Since when do you walk that fast?" he asked her, all jokes and easy smiles again. "What time are you leaving tomorrow?"

"Ten a.m."

"I'll be there," he told her. "I'll bring you breakfast in the morning if you want."

Erina nodded, a small smile finding its way onto her lips. "You better not oversleep again."

"As long as you don't touch my alarm clock, we'll be fine there. Good night, Nakiri."

"Good night."

They parted ways then, each secure in the knowledge that it wouldn't be forever, that it wouldn't be for long, and Erina was left to contemplate why that knowledge brought such serenity to her. But somehow she felt sure that she would find out soon enough.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, everyone, and sorry about the late update. I am currently working full time and in grad school, so I have not been able to spend as much time on writing as I did in the summer. Please let me know what you think, and have a good day!


	12. Chapter 12

_When the cat's away the mice will play_. That was the first thought that struck Nakiri Alice when Erina pulled up to the Elite Ten jet with none other than Yukihira Souma in tow. Perhaps she had been so distracted by her new relationship with Ryo that she hadn't been paying enough attention.

She bounced out of her seat when they came onto the jet and wrapped her arms around the prodigal second seat. "Yukihira!" she shouted. "Thank god! How could you leave me alone with all these serious people?"

"Ah, sorry Alice," Souma said, scratching the back of his head. "It must have been rough for you."

"You have no idea! Erina's been extra uptight since you left. It's been awful."

"I'm standing right here, you know," Erina said, glowering, her arms crossed over her chest. "And why don't you get off him, already? Not everyone wants such close contact with you."

"Territorial much, Erina?" Alice glanced over at her cousin, smirking, but still ended the embrace. "You see, before she would have started screaming over something like that. What did you do?"

Souma grinned, glancing over at Erina. "I mean, I mostly just fed her. That usually works."

"H-honestly! Won't the both of you just be quiet already?"

By that point, Erina was all red and pissy again, and Alice giggled behind her hands. "I hope you brought snacks, Yukihira."

The pale haired Nakiri skipped back to her seat before her cousin could yell at her more, just as Takumi Aldini boarded and started shouting at Yukihira about when he had arrived and why he hadn't been answering any of his phone calls. She laughed a bit as she made her way to the jet's small kitchen. Blonds were so high-strung.

"Won't you stop harassing Erina-sama?" Hishoko asked, as she brewed espresso.

"Nah, it's too much fun," she said, leaning on the counter. "But I know you had a hand in all of this. Erina is way too prideful to have tracked him down on her own."

"I did nothing." Hisako tied her hair up and started steaming the milk for her cappuccinos. "You were the one who insisted on taking this trip."

"I don't know, Hishoko," Alice drawled. "You're so busy handling Erina's affairs that you're slacking on your own."

"What are you talking about—"

"You've got a love bite right there." She prodded the space just between the pink haired girl's neck and collarbone.

"D-don't touch me! What are you talking about?" Hishoko's face went fire-engine red.

"Using deductive reasoning, this means that your mystery man is either Takumi or Hayama-kun."

"Your logic is fallacious as usual, Alice," she replied, wearing a bored expression. "I met someone at the beach."

"You?" Alice laughed. "Queen Background Check herself fooling around with a random guy? Nah, I don't believe it."

"Believe whatever you want," Hisako said. "But believe it quietly. Some of us don't enjoy being the subject of public discourse."

With that, Arato Hisako left the kitchen with not one, not two, but _three _cappuccinos in tow. Alice grinned again. _Interesting_.

The mice will play, indeed.

* * *

For a fleeting moment after Yukihira returned to Totsuki with the rest of the Elite Ten, Hayama Akira had believed that the days of endless meetings and paperwork were behind him—but he was very quickly disabused of the notion.

"Yo, Hayama," the newly returned second seat said, standing in the doorway of his office. "There's a ramen festival going on in Osaka, so me and Nakiri are gonna head over there for the weekend. We'll be back on Monday."

Akira looked up from the document he'd been reviewing and glared at him, as well as Nakiri Erina, who at least had the decency to try and look somewhat guilty. "What about the new seminar budget allotments that are due next week?"

Yukihira shrugged it off, cavalier as ever. "We'll figure it out between all of us."

"All you'd have to do is calculate the remaining discretionary budget and determine what percentage of it can be put towards seminars," Erina explained. "Then you'd read through all the new seminar proposals, rank them by their potential impact on the industry and campus life, and from there conduct follow-up interviews with the lead faculty and write up your proposed allotments."

"Yeah, and we'll do the rest when we get back," Yukihira added.

Akira looked at them with murder in his posture. "And the rest would be?"

Yukihira glanced at Nakiri, who simply raised her eyebrows as though to say 'this was your idea.'

"Ah, Nakiri, we better get going before we miss the train."

Erina rolled her eyes. "You idiot! That's why I said get the later ticket." She sighed. "I guess it can't be helped. The car is already out front."

"Later, Hayama!" Yukihira said.

"Text Hisako if you want my notes. She has access to my cloud."

As the first and second seats left Elite Ten headquarters, it occurred to Akira that as far as the work was concerned, it was more like Nakiri left than Yukihira came back.

Great.

At around six in the evening Arato Hisako came into his office, bearing a pot of darjeeling tea and some scones.

"I can tell you're in a mood," she said, pouring out a cup of tea and handing it to him. "Are you almost finished?"

"Not even close." He had only slogged through half the new seminar proposals and couldn't even think about scheduling interviews yet. And then there were the new lectures for the Shiomi lab course he'd have to write and the prep for upcoming meetings with the investors.

Akira's eyes drew closed, a headache starting at the base of his skull as he pictured his schedule for the next week, and by the time they opened again, Arato was behind him, massaging his shoulders.

He tilted his head back slightly and pinned her with a quizzical gaze. The way she vacillated between affection and indifference was dizzying.

Flushing slightly, Arato glanced at the door—making sure it was really closed—and then kissed him quickly before resuming her massage. "You carry all of your tension right here," she said, pressing her thumb into a particularly tender spot near his left shoulder. "So much stress isn't good for the body. You'll start getting headaches if you don't already. Relax more."

How the hell did she always do that?

"Then tell your mistress to do her damn job."

Arato laughed a little at this. "Erina-sama has been working hard all her life," she said, always quick to come to her friend's defense. "Yukihira just got back. Let them enjoy each other. She'll be back to her duties in no time."

"And when do we get to enjoy each other?" Akira asked, gazing up at her again. He was met with a flicker in her cinnamon eyes that he'd come to know far too well.

"Well, I suppose there's no time like the present," she said, leaving a kiss at the base of his neck.

"What, in here?" he asked. "Right now?" This was bolder than he knew her to be.

She shrugged, beginning to unbutton her uniform blazer. "I mean, Erina-sama is out of town so..."

So...on second thought, maybe having the two of them gone wasn't so bad after all.

**Authors Notes:** Thank you for reading, and I apologize for the late update!


	13. Chapter 13

When Erina was young, her father had advised her—commanded her, in truth—to avoid food festivals at all costs. He had said that they were cesspools of culinary vulgarity, filled with commoners eating mindlessly, without any concept of what true gourmet was.

And now, after she stepped out of what must have been her twentieth ramen stall with Yukihira, she had confirmed that her father had been right about the crowds and nothing else. She'd be damned before she'd admit it, but she was having a lot of fun.

"That place would be number seven," she said, checking it off on her map.

"Really?" he asked, skeptical. "You'd put it above the place with the shiro miso?"

Erina thought on it for a moment, comparing the flavor and mouthfeel of the two bowls, before nodding solemnly. "While the broth at the other stall was of a higher quality, this one had a better selection of toppings, and a more harmonious combination of flavors overall."

Yukihira grinned at her, and then made an annotation on his own map. "Leave it to the god tongue."

Erina huffed a bit and rolled her eyes. "I cannot believe you brought me all the way out here to help you rank ramen stalls."

"Why not?" he asked with a casual shrug. "Isn't this what you do in your consulting, anyway?"

"Absolutely not!" Erina crossed her arms over her chest. "My consulting is to push world gastronomy forward, not for—" She paused for a moment. "What are we doing this for, anyway?"

"Just for fun," the second seat said, all smiles as usual. "I'll probably post the list online or something."

"I should have known," Erina said, reaching up to flip her hair, which was inching over her shoulders again. "Honestly, we probably should have stayed at school. Those budget allotments need to be handled before any plans can be made for next year."

"Knowing Hayama, everything's gonna be taken care of before we get back," Yukihira told her. "Especially with Arato still around."

Erina gave a conceding sigh. If she were being honest, the two of them were more reliable than she and Yukihira by far. But she still couldn't help but worry. "I'll give Hisako a call and find out how it's going."

"You do that, Nakiri. I'll go get us some snacks."

"Snacks? We just tried twenty types of ramen!"

"Yeah, but they have other stuff for sale too. You've gotta love these types of festivals."

Erina sighed deeply, unwilling to part with the brain cells she'd lose arguing with him, and smiled despite herself as she watched him go. She then took a seat on a nearby bench and called Hisako. The phone rang five times—she must've been busy, as Hisako usually answered after two—and then went to voicemail.

_Hello. You have reached Arato Hisako. If you are calling in reference to a scheduled consultation with Nakiri Erina, please—_

Erina hung up then and stared at her phone as though it were about to detonate. Hisako _always_ picked up when she called. The last time she hadn't had been during the promotion exams in Hokkaido, when her father had sent the Elite Ten to hunt everyone down.

By the time Yukihira returned, bearing dango, taiyaki, and a number of other treats, Erina had convinced herself of the worst case scenario.

"We have to go back," she said at once.

"Did something happen with the report?"

"No, but Hisako's not answering, which means something happened to her! It must be that someone targeted her, trying to get to the god tongue. I should have been there and—"

"Nakiri, relax," Yukihira said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Arato is like a black belt. There's no way someone could just carry her off. She's probably in the shower or something."

"She showers in the morning," Erina grumbled, though she'd be lying if she said she didn't see his point.

"If you're really scared something happened, why don't you just call Alice?"

Glowering, Erina took her phone back out and did just that. "Alice," she said once her cousin answered.

_"Erina, you little sneak,"_ her cousin drawled. _"Are you enjoying your date?"_

"It's not a date!"

Alice giggled a little at this. _"No, I suppose it's more of a romantic getaway, isn't it?"_

"Alice!"

_"What are you calling for anyway?"_ Alice asked. _"I'm about to watch a movie with Ryo-kun."_

"I was just wondering if Hisako is in the house. I called her just now and she wasn't answering."

_"No."_ Alice paused for a moment, as though she were thinking. _"She's still at the Elite Ten offices, working on that budget thing you and Yukihira blew off—"_

"Well, it's not like you were offering to help—"

_"Anyway, she's still there...with Hayama, I think. But I'll tell her to call you when she gets home."_

"Thanks. That was actually kind of helpful."

_"Well, you just helped me build my case, so I don't really mind,"_ Alice said with another little laugh.

"Wait, what case—"

_"Enjoy the rest of your trip, and tell Yukihira I said hi. I know you're both hopeless, but try to be brave and make a move for me, kay?"_

Then Alice hung up on her, and Erina looked back at Yukihira, hoping she wasn't blushing too hard. "You were right," she said. "She's at Parliament with Hayama-kun."

He smirked at her. "See, you've gotta stop worrying so much, Nakiri. Just relax and enjoy the moment."

He handed her a stick of dango, and Erina took it, shaking her head at him all the while. "Has it ever occurred to you that it isn't me that worries too much? Maybe you just care to little."

"You think so?" Yukihira tilted his head to the side, looking genuinely curious, and Erina didn't know if she wanted to laugh or punch him in the face.

"Oh, I know so." Erina took a bite of dango that was perhaps more aggressive than it needed to be. "You take off whenever you want, without a second thought. You never let anyone know where you're going or when you're coming back."

He looked at her closely then, his golden eyes warm in the light of the lanterns the vendors started to put outside. "Sorry. I didn't think it would bother you."

"Well, it does, so try to have a little more consideration," Erina huffed.

"Alright. I won't leave without telling you again. It's a promise," he told her.

Erina bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Yukihira-kun."

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for reading, everyone! Feedback is greatly appreciated! At this point I think the ball is squarely in Souma's court when it comes to making moves.


	14. Chapter 14

The noon hour Elite Ten meetings were always the worst ones because they coincided with the academy-wide lunch hour. This meant that after hustling from their classes to Totsuki's Parliament — the Elite Ten's administrative building — they'd then have to rush back to the academic buildings for afternoon classes.

It was generally understood that no one would get to eat lunch on these days unless they packed something ahead of time. And of course, just as his 10:30 practicum ended for the day, Souma received a one word text message from Nakiri.

_Hungry._

It was 11:46. If he took her up on this — and naturally he would — he'd have only fourteen minutes to cook her something and then haul ass to Parliament. She always did have a habit of asking for the near-impossible. He shook his head at the phone as he typed his reply.

_Don't complain if I'm late. _

Her response came almost instantly, as though she were waiting for his text. But that would never happen with a girl like Nakiri.

_Less complaining, more cooking. I'll see you in 12 minutes. _

He sighed, taking his uniform jacket back off and glancing around the classroom's ingredient shelf. Beef shank, noodles, cabbage—_easy_.

Nine minutes later, he had two servings of beef yakiudon packed in a to-go container. He had just stepped out into the winter air, calculating how fast he'd have to sprint in order to make it by noon, when a black towncar pulled up in front of the academic building.

The window rolled down slowly, and Nakiri shot him an impatient look. "Wipe the grin off your face and get in."

He slid into the seat next to her without a second thought, but was unable to manage a neutral facial expression. "I thought you were gonna leave me to the wolves."

"I considered it," she quipped, crossing her arms. "But if we couldn't start on time, Alice would just find a way to get everyone off task. Plus it's freezing out, and you never have the sense to dress properly."

He smirked at her then. "It's nice to know you care, Nakiri."

"It's a professional courtesy, and nothing more," she said. "Now what have you prepared for me today?"

His smirk broadened as he watched her eye the takeout box with interest. "Can't wait to try it, can you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Yukihira-kun," she said, though her growling stomach gave her away. She regarded him with a murderous scowl even as her cheeks turned red.

"Betrayed by her own stomach."

"S-shut up! It's just that I've been busy all day and haven't gotten a chance to eat yet. It has nothing to do with you or your cooking!"

"Whatever you say, Nakiri," he told her, leaning back on the leather seats.

They reached the conference room at 12 on the dot and promptly received death stares from all their lunchless colleagues.

Unperturbed, Nakiri took her seat at the head of the table, chopsticks in hand. "Let's begin."

The meeting started with a review of the budget allotments for new seminars in the coming fiscal year. Arato and Hayama distributed the budget plans for the eight new seminars they'd approved, and the rest of the council voted in favor of their plan—mostly because no one could be bothered to read the whole document.

Next they discussed the logistics of upcoming events, including the first year promotion exams in Hokkaido and the alumni banquet. Souma had almost forgotten how much work running the academy could be.

Towards the end of the meeting, Alice — who was now chair of the campus life committee — made a proposal of her own.

"So your plan is...a party?" Hayama asked in a skeptical tone after she described it.

"I'm proposing a semi-formal dance for Valentine's Day," she explained. "The Elite Ten will commission the chocolate and candy research societies to produce candy grams that students will use to ask each other to the dance."

"It seems frivolous," Arato pointed out. "A cooking event I would understand, but what would be the point of a dance?"

"Excellent question, Hishoko," Alice said. She turned to the next slide in her presentation. "The event will boost morale on campus before finals start up, and all the proceeds will go to Totsuki's philanthropic branch. There's no downside."

"This is Japan's top culinary academy, Alice," Nakiri said with a dismissive wave. "There's no time for something like a school dance."

"And that's exactly why the student body needs to cut loose," the other Nakri heiress said. "No one's gonna cook their best if they're all uptight, Erina. It's bad for creativity. So who's in favor? Ryo-kun obviously supports me."

"Sure," said Kurokiba, who most-likely wasn't even paying attention.

"I'll support it," Takumi added. "I haven't been to a semi-formal since I left Italy."

"Um..." Megumi began. "I really like the idea of all the proceeds going to charity, so I'm in favor as well."

And once Tadokoro was on board no one really had the heart to oppose the event anymore.

"So it's settled," Alice said with a broad smile once the vote was won. "Totsuki Academy is going to hold its first ever Valentine's Day dance!"

* * *

A week later, Souma walked into the copy room in Parliament, holding a flyer for the dance and a prototype of the candy gram. It was a small, heart shaped box of chocolates with a card attached to it. Sakaki and Yoshino had gone crazy over the design when he showed it to them earlier.

"Hey Nakiri, can I ask you something?" he asked once he saw her scanning a document.

"If you must." She turned around with her usual pre-annoyed expression, and then flushed suddenly. "Wait, you mean here?" Nakiri cast a meaningful glance at Takumi, who had just come in to print something.

"Yeah, why not? It's not like it's a secret."

If it were possible, the flush on her cheeks deepened, and she started fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. "W-well, if that's how you feel about it, Yukihira-kun, I suppose I can't really object, so..."

"Great!" Souma held out the candy gram to her and she took it tentatively, her fingers brushing against his as she did. She gave one of those fleeting Nakiri smiles and it unwound all of his thoughts the way they always did. Why was he even there again?

"Get on with it, will you?" she asked with a giggle.

"Right." Souma ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed to have been caught staring. "So what do you think of the design?"

Her expression darkened then. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You know, for the fundraiser and stuff. The president of the Chocolate RS wanted to run it by the Elite Ten before we start selling them. So do you like it?"

"Oh...it's fine, I guess," she said with a sigh. Then Nakiri sidestepped him and walked right out of the room.

Souma watched her go, perplexed. What was that all about?

"That was painful," Takumi said to him after a moment.

"What? You think she really didn't like it?"

"It's not a matter of the design, Yukihira!" the blond shouted. Souma had almost forgotten how intense that guy could be. "That wasn't the question she was expecting just now."

"But how would she know what I was going to ask?"

With a beleaguered sigh, Takumi pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. "Repeat after me. Ask."

"Ask."

"Her."

"Her."

"To the dance."

Souma pondered this for a moment before responding. "What's the point of asking one person if we're all gonna end up hanging out, anyway? It makes more sense for everyone to go as one big group."

"Yes, but you should still ask her specifically to express that you're interested."

"Who said I was—"

"Oh please. You're only slightly less obsessed with her and her god tongue than you are with cooking itself, and it's about as subtle as a herd of elephants."

"You know elephants can actually be pretty—"

"Off topic! The point is, you need to ask her out and soon, or lose your honor as a chef and as a man!"

After this grand proclamation, Souma looked at his friend curiously. "So who are you asking, Takumi?"

And with that, he sent his second blond of the day storming out of the copy room.

**Authors Notes:** Alice has engineered the circumstances. Now the question is will he ever manage to ask her out properly lol? Thanks for reading everyone! Please let me know what you think and if you have any requests!


	15. Chapter 15

Erina sighed at the ever-growing pile of candy-grams accumulating at her feet on the campus quad.

"Form an orderly line," Hisako said through her bullhorn. "No pushing. You will all get an opportunity to make your confession. Next is number eighty-three."

"P-please go to the dance with me, Erina-sama." The would-be suitor bowed and placed yet another chocolate in Erina's hands. "If you do, I'll die a happy man."

"You have a long life ahead of you," she replied with a wave that told him to move along. It was all so boring.

_Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. _Erina had read the poem in a literature class two years ago — one in which, if she remembered correctly, Yukihira-kun sat right in front of her and fell asleep every other day — but now the words were taking on a new meaning.

"Can we wrap this up soon?" she whispered to her aide. Her patience was running thin, and it was too cold for this shit, anyway. The only reason she'd agreed to make public appearances in the first place was to prevent the confession cards from stopping up mail service at the Nakiri Mansion.

"Of course," Hisako replied with a calm smile, but her expression turned to stone when she faced the crowd again. She produced, seemingly out of nowhere, an orange flag and planted it in the ground. "Attention, all! Erina-sama is extremely busy with ensuring the welfare of the academy, so we will have to leave soon. Everyone standing behind this flag will need to come back tomorrow. If you refuse to comply, you will be forcibly removed!"

After some nondescript grumbling, the crowd largely dispersed.

While Erina was receiving the last ten or so candy grams, one of the Polar Star residents arrived. The blonde one with the fade. As Erina struggled to recall if this one was Daigo or Shoji — they sort of blended together in her mind — he pulled out a unique looking valentine.

Hisako's eyes narrowed. "There will be no special treatment for friends, Sato-kun," she said. "If you intend to ask Erina-sama to the dance, you'll have to wait just like everybody el—"

"Actually, Arato-san," he interjected, flushing red. So it was Shoji after all, Erina noted. "I was wondering—hoping, really." The boy took a deep breath, gathering his resolve. "I know it's a long shot, but will you go out with me?"

Hisako's jaw was on the ground, and she seemed frozen for a minute like a glitchy video call. "Wait, what?"

"I want to go to the dance with you," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I've...well, I've been into you for a while now. I know it's a long shot, but…" He paused then, handing her the valentine. "The Elite Ten ones were nice, but I made this myself. I hope you like it."

"Thank you." Hisako opened the royal blue box, and Erina could tell right away that the candies were dark chocolate truffles infused with green tea. Excellent choice; Erina was almost rooting for him. "I...I don't know what to say."

"You can say yes, and I'll take you out to dinner before we go."

Smooth, Shoji. Erina was now officially rooting for him. It was far more courage than she had seen as of late.

Hisako's eyebrows knit together, like she was making calculations. "I...wow. Can I get back to you?" she asked.

"Take all the time you need. Thanks for hearing me out," he said, and then walked away.

Once Shoji and the last of Erina's suitors were gone, the Nakiri heiress turned to her best friend. "So are you going to say yes?"

"I...I don't know," she replied after they started walking towards their car. A security guard on retainer for the Nakiri family came to collect the discarded candy grams. "I was planning on working during the dance; doing damage control to make sure Alice doesn't get too out of hand."

"Annoying, but necessary," Erina sighed. Asking Alice to temper her impulses was like asking for snow in a desert. Impossible. "But really, we can outsource that kind of task. You should enjoy yourself too, Hisako."

"I really don't mind," she said quickly. "And besides, there's…" She stopped short, catching herself.

"There's what?" Erina prompted.

"Never mind," she said. "What would you like me to have them do with all the chocolate?"

"Can we give it to an elementary school or something?" she asked. "I can't even look at them."

Hisako made a quiet, sympathetic noise. "You're still annoyed about Yukihira-kun?"

"How is it physically possible for someone to be so obtuse?" she raged on in a familiar refrain. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was playing with me. In fact, I'd prefer it because at least then I'd know he has two brain cells to rub together and could take comfort in the fact that I didn't fall for a complete idiot!"

Hisako said nothing then, regarding Erina with a bemused grin.

"What?" the first seat asked, noting the loudness of her friend's silence. "Hisako!"

"Nothing," she said, trying to reign in her expression. "I'm just glad you were able to come to terms with things on your end."

"What do you mean? Come to terms with—" When she realized her mistake, Erina wanted to evaporate and float away. "I-I didn't mean it that way! I take it back!"

"Of course, Erina-sama," Hisako said, smiling again despite her best efforts. "Consider it forgotten."

Erina rubbed her temples as the mansion came into view. She'd have to bury herself under the duvet for hours to get over this one. However, these plans were effectively thwarted when they ran into Alice in the foyer. She was holding court with Yukihira, Kurokiba, and Hayama, testing recipes and chatting.

"Oh, Erina! Hishoko," her cousin called, bouncing over to them. "How many were there today?"

Erina merely shrugged, and Hisako frowned. "I stopped counting after ninety."

Alice raised her eyebrows to comedic heights. "It's not like you to lose count. You might be losing your organizational edge, Hishoko!"

"Don't be absurd," Hisako retorted. "I was on top of it until…" She stopped abruptly. "Let's just say there was a distraction."

At this, Yukihira looked up. "Oh yeah, Shoji said he was gonna do that today."

"Do what?" Alice asked.

"Confess to Arato," he said casually before turning to Hisako. "Did you say yes?"

"Who the hell is Shoji?" Hayama asked Kurokiba, who merely shrugged.

"Fuck if I know. Is that the one with the sideburns?"

"No, you idiots. Sideburns is Shun," Alice interjected.

As the lab coat trio got into an argument over names — and Hisako stealthily disappeared up the stairs — Yukihira approached her. "Hey, Nakiri. Can I talk for you for a minute?"

Oh, no way was she falling for this trap again. "Actually, I'd prefer if you didn't."

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, grinning at her. He stepped out into the corridor, and she followed him against her better instincts. "Anyway, I think I misunderstood the situation last time."

Well, that was the understatement of the fucking millennium. "Oh? I don't know what you mean, Yukihira-kun," she said in a monotone.

"Really?" he asked, glancing at her curiously. "I guess Takumi was wrong then."

"Assume he wasn't," said Erina through gritted teeth.

Yukihira looked confused for a moment, but then just shrugged. "Alright, so you're probably tired of getting asked out by now, so I have a proposition for you."

"Okay." Erina crossed her arms over her chest, reminding herself not to get her hopes up again.

"If I can make a dish you find delicious in the next five days, you go to the dance with me."

Erina gave a caustic laugh and a hair flip, though her heart was beating quadruple time. "A-and why should I agree to such a thing?"

In response, Yukihira Souma regarded her with a smirk that made her weak-kneed. _Where the hell had he learned that?_ "I'll take that as a yes," he said. "Prepare for it, Nakiri. I won't hold back this time."

And he was gone before she could have the last word.

At the very least, she wasn't bored anymore.

**Author's Notes:** Okay! It took fifteen chapters, but Souma is finally getting on with it. Now the question is, will Erina's tsundere impulses sabotage her again? Also...how long will Akira and Hisako be able to keep their "relationship" a secret? Thanks for reading, everyone! Please let me know what you think!


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